The Sorcerers Lament
by EmrysTheMerlin
Summary: Merlin is captured by the mysterious and violece loving Clayton. Can Arthur and the Knights rescue him in time? Or will he finaly be reunited with his true love Freya? Rated K for violence and torture. Some blood but not too much gore.
1. Not Your Time

The Sorcerers Lament 

**(Authors Note: This story is the first of many; I do not own BBC's Merlin, on which this is partially based. This story has more of the actual Arthurian legend then BBC's Merlin; I also do not own the Arthurian legend, such as the presence of Sir Kay who is not in the show. Please review, I want to know what people think. Written first person from Merlin's POV)**

Part 1 Not Your Time

I scrabbled at my throat as the bigger man, Clayton, wound the chain around my neck and pulled tighter, constricting my windpipe. I gasped and choked, my magic trying to help, trying to free me, but the cuffs around my wrists simply burned white hot. I didn't have the breath to scream. My vision began to blur as I chocked, desperate for air, cursing this man to the depths of hell but unable to do anything. Without my magic I was helpless dying. Where was Arthur?

I needed him now more than ever.

I couldn't breathe and felt unconsciousness moving in on me as Clayton turned to his buyers. He said something jeering but my ears seemed to have stopped working. He hadn't let up on the chain and in that moment I realized I was going to die.

A kind of calm settled over me as the blackness closed in. Soon I would see Freya again, and it wouldn't hurt anymore. I heard a familiar sounding shout of rage from far away but it hardly mattered any more. I felt the chain slacken and I fell. Clayton was no longer forcing me to stay in a sitting position.

I closed my eyes and welcomed death as the face of my Freya swam into view. Tears streaked her face and I gently brushed them away, delighted to find that she was real and not a dream.

"Merlin. Oh my Merlin! Those horrible things he did to you!" I smiled at her.

"He can't hurt me anymore Freya, no one can." I held her close for a moment. She pushed me back to arms length.

"You have to go back Merlin. It isn't your time." I frowned and felt her hand on my neck, healing me. I started to shake, fear building once more.

"I can't go back Freya. He'll hurt me again." My voice trembled and she smiled at me. Her warm smile melted the fear away.

"He will never harm another living soul. Your friends are seeing to that." The blackness began to settle on me again, I called her name.

"Freya." I groaned opening my eyes. But it wasn't Freya looking down at me. It took me a moment to realize who the smiling knight was.

"Lancelot?" My voice snapped like a dry twig and I coughed turning my head. Lancelot put a hand on my shoulder obviously concerned.

"Merlin, how do you feel?" I raised an eyebrow at him, unable to answer between coughs.

"Not good huh?" he unhooked his water skin from his sword belt and helped me into a sitting position, uncorking the skin and holding it to my lips. Gratefully I gulped down the cool fresh water. I heard footsteps and flinched. Then Arthur knelt down next to me. A sigh of relief escaped and I shivered. I hadn't allowed myself to realize just how scared I had been since I had awoken in the cell. I had no idea how long I had been here, maybe weeks I had lost track days ago. Concern was evident on Arthur's face as he looked me up and down. I knew I must look frightful.

I felt worse than I looked. Despite Freya healing my neck wound everything hurt. I was bruised from head to toe, my sides were badly burned in several places and my back was bleeding again. My wrists were heavy; they hadn't removed the cuffs yet. Seeing this Arthur called over his shoulder,

"Gwaine! Bring those keys over here!"

"Got them!" I heard Gwaine coming over and saw his cheeky smile falter as he saw the state I was in. He found the right key and unlocked the cuffs. I heard an intake of breath from everyone present. I felt sick. My wrists where the cuffs had been had no skin left. Dried blood, layers of it, covered the inside of the cuffs.

My breath hissed out between my teeth as I saw fresh blood trickle down my wrists. They were burned, blistered and painful. I heard tearing fabric and saw Arthur ripping apart his shirt, wait that wasn't his shirt.

"What on earth are you wearing?"

"Well we couldn't exactly rescue you dressed as knights and a king could we?" He didn't look at me but wrapped the strips of fabric around my wrists as a makeshift bandage. I gasped at the renewed bolt of pain that shot through one wrist as Arthur accidentally brushed the cloth against it. His eyes met mine and I nodded for him to continue.

"The other people? They're still locked up." Gwaine shook his head.

"You've been out for almost two hours Merlin. We already got them out."

"We thought we'd lost you Merlin." Lancelot said his arm still supporting me.

"You did." It was barely more than a whisper but everyone around me stiffened. Lancelot knew, I could tell. I tried to stand but nearly fell all three of them leaping forward to help me. Exhausted, drained and unable to fight it anymore I let unconsciousness take me.


	2. Welcome to Hell

**(Authors note: Should have mentioned this before, this story gets violent. Torture and a bit of blood, but no really descriptive gore. Certain parts take place as flashbacks. These are Merlin's dreams, what actually happened before the knights showed up. Still don't own BBC's Merlin or the Arthurian legend.)**

Part 2 Welcome to Hell

I had hoped I wouldn't dream but I did.

'_Where am I?_' The first thought in my head was pain and a sense of fear that I couldn't explain. I moved my arms and heard the clinking of chains.

'_Chains?'_

'_Where was I_?'

Still half conscious a horrible thought occurred to me. '_Arthur._' Had he really locked me up for my magic? I began to shake violently at the thought. But no. Memory was slowly creeping back. Arthur had known for almost a month now. He had even appointed me, what he called, Camelot's official court sorcerer. But then where was I?

I had regained enough feeling in my leg and sat up. My hands were manacled together, but not to the wall. I had never seen these kinds of cuffs before.

"Axspringhenge." The spell should have caused the cuffs to fall off, unlocked. Instead a sharp pain shot from the cuffs into my wrists like someone was holding a hot iron against them. I gasped and tried again. Once again the spell resulted only in pain. Then I investigated the cuffs further and let out a stream of non-magical curses.

Etched into the cuffs were symbols of the Old Religion. I knew these symbols. The one for magic was present on both cuffs, as was the symbol for the third circle. The reversal circle. These were designed to hold those with magic. They would turn any magic I used against me.

"Shit, shit, shit!" I breathed panic starting to rise. My head throbbed painfully. I reached my hand around to the back of my head. There was blood there, fairly dry but less than a day old.

Good, I hadn't been here more than a day, probably. My memory was foggy and broken. I shook my head trying to remember. Flashes of a forest and a booming threatening voice came to me, followed by the memory of a sharp pain at the base of my skull, then nothing. The cell was dark and I couldn't summon a light without hurting myself. Aside from my head I appeared to have a few bruises here and there but nothing too serious. Then I heard a voice that chilled my spine, for it was the last voice I remembered hearing.

"So my new prey is awake!" He laughed. The door to the cell opened and a large man filled the doorway. He was muscular and scared his smile far more terrifying than his size. Lumbering into the room he smirked down at me, helpless on the floor. I didn't dare try to stand lest my legs give out on me. Before I could react he reached down and snatched me up by the collar of my shirt. Holding me to his eye level with my feet above the ground I got a face full of his rancid breath.

"Welcome to Hell sorcerer. When I'm finished you won't even remember your own name." He grinned wickedly and dropped me to the floor. He waited until I caught my breath before savagely kicking me in the stomach. I doubled over, pain and defiance vying for control of my mind. Defiance won out and I felt a flash of power rise to the surface. I loosed it, letting it smack him against the opposite wall feeling the cuffs burn into my skin.

The man stood and I saw anger burn in his eyes, but something else lingered there too. Fear. He knew the cuffs were enchanted and I shouldn't have been able to hurt him. He strode back toward me and smacked me across the face knocking me to the floor. My lip was bleeding, so dry it had split the moment his hand had made contact with my face. I could already feel the bruise rising.

"Try something like that again and you'll get far worse than a split lip." He spat at me. Turning his back to me he walked out of the cell slamming the door behind him. For the first time in my life I felt true hatred rise up inside. It was bitter and vile. I spat blood and waited.

I must have slept for when I opened my eyes next the light streaming in from the cells tiny window was different, maybe midday. The floor of the cell was made of dirt and I made a mark in one of the corners. One day, well one day that I could remember. My mouth was dry and tasted of dust and the coppery tang of blood. The door creaked open and I found my captor smiling down at me once more.

"Time for a little fun eh sorcerer?" He grabbed me by my shirt and practically threw me into the hall. I stumbled and he lashed out, kicking my feet out from under me. He laughed as I struggled to my feet. Rage burned deep inside as he shoved me down the dank stone hall. But not rage for what he was doing, would do, to me. No, my rage steamed from the glimpses of gaunt white faces that peered out of cell windows, looking utterly broken. How many people did he have down here?

Soon we reached our destination, a room I would come to know all too well over the next few weeks, which to me felt alternately like minutes or years. It was plain stone, much like the cell I had been confined to, however one of the stone walls had a series of chains attached to it. They were all different lengths and positioned at different heights on the wall. I knew immediately what this room was for. There could be only one purpose for it. Torture. The large man unhooked the chains linking the cuffs on my wrists together. He did not however remove the cuffs, as I had been hoping he would.

Once he had the chains off he shoved me face first into the wall holding one of my arms painfully up at an angle that should have been impossible for me to achieve. He took his time finding the chain he wanted, openly enjoying my pain. My shoulder felt like it was on fire by the time he hooked the cuff to a chain and let go. He repeated the process with my other arm. Once both of my arms were restrained he let go. My arms were held securely but not at the painful angle he had held them at. I could see nothing but the wall in front of me. I heard him moving around behind me.

Then without any warning I heard a whooshing sound then felt pain as the whip mad contact with my back tearing effortlessly through my shirt. I must have gasped for I heard the man let out a triumphant laugh, then he snapped the whip across my back again, just a little harder.

"My name, sorcerer, is Clayton. And you are my special guest until somebody comes to buy you off me." My heart sank, slave trader.

I resisted the urge to howl with pain as the whip bit deep again, cutting into an old scar.

"Your name doesn't matter. All that matters is that you learn to do only what I say." I practically snarled at the next hit and I could feel him pause. I could feel magic rising to the surface and forced it down, but not before my eyes flashed gold and the chains groaned. I forced the magic back down; I couldn't let him find out the secret about my magic, the secret not even Arthur knew. I silently prayed that he would find me.

"Powerful one aren't you?" He was sneering now I could hear it in his voice. I laughed.

"You have no idea. I could do this all day." I forced bravado over the pain, defiance and anger over the fear. Clayton faltered once more. Then he laughed. It was higher and colder than it should have been. He wasn't used to this kind of resistance that was obvious.

"Good. I've been craving a challenge." He snapped the whip across my back again.

Several hours later he dropped me back in my cell. Had it only been hours? It felt like half a lifetime to may aching shoulders and stinging back.

I had to hold out. My destiny wasn't finished yet. Of one thing I was absolutely certain; this putrid hellhole was not the end.


	3. Who Was She

**(Authors Note: Still dont own BBC's Merlin, or the Arthurian legend)**

Part 3 Who Was She

"..don't know if we should move him yet." Lancelot's voice, breaking through the fog that seemed to cloud my eyes and ears. My head felt heavy, better, but still heavy. Bandaged I thought. My shoulder, the left one, was bandaged as well as my back and sides. My wrists were in the worst shape, bandaged though they might have been they felt as if someone had poured hot coals over them. Fresh air and the smell of a fire reached my nose. I breathed deeply, and coughed.

Immediately there were people around me. I blinked a few times and they came into focus. Lancelot, Kay, Gwaine, Arthur and Percival stood around me each with concern etched on their faces. Lancelot was the most skilled at battlefield medicine, other than myself, and told them to back up so I would have some room to breathe.

"Merlin! You scared us half to death back there." Gwaine said, exasperation mingling with relief. He handed Lancelot his water skin and Lancelot pressed it to my lips. I drank feeling frustratingly unable to do anything.

"Can't get rid of me that easily." I grinned, which hurt. Lancelot handed the skin back to Gwaine. The knights smiled; glad to see me acting like my old self again. Arthur wasn't fooled though. He had heard the quaver in my voice. I knew he could see me shaking slightly. He hesitated then decided midsentence to switch tactics.

"Merlin I… It's good to have you back." Then he turned to his knights.

"Come on he needs to rest. Lancelot you stay here. Percival you're with me, Gwaine you stay with Lancelot and Merlin, Kay we need the water skins refilled." The knights hurried off to their tasks. Once he was sure none of the others could hear him Lancelot asked,

"Who's Freya?" My heart caught in my throat. How had he known? Seeing my reaction he quickly explained.

"You kept saying her name. In your sleep I mean. When you first woke up you called out for her. Who is she?" I paused gazing up at the trees above me.

"She is the only person I have ever truly loved. We met many years ago. We were going to leave. I was going to leave Camelot, everything, for her." Lancelot was silent for a few moments. Then Gwaine spoke up scaring us both.

"Why didn't you?" A simple enough question. The answer was painful too painful. I didn't answer, closing my eyes instead. I heard Lancelot whisper something to Gwaine.

I hadn't meant to actually fall asleep again. I didn't want to dream, but the dreams were inescapable.


	4. To Scream Her Name

**(Authors Note: This is where things get a bit intense with the torture. More delicate readers may want to turn away. Still not that much gore though. Again flashback dream. I do not own BBC's Merlin or the Arthurian legend)**

Part 4 To Scream Her Name

The next few days passed with little variation. Clayton would come at what I guessed was the same time every day. He would drag me off to his "whipping room". He would then attempt to beat his rules into me, trying to get me to call him master and speak only when spoken to. I ignored him, retaliating to his whip cracks with snark and sarcasm.

He wasn't used to this and laughed with triumph on the third day when he finally got me to scream.

"I told you sorcerer I've been craving a challenge." I forced myself not to cry but I couldn't stop the screams. He dropped me back in my cell, bleeding but unbroken. The next day was when things got much worse.

I awoke to the sounds of someone crying. A small someone. They were shoved into the cell next to mine. Two girls no older than ten. They both wore manacles identical to mine. There was a small window into their cell from mine. They were crying and both had cuts on their hands and faces. I felt the bile rise into my throat and fought back with rage instead. The door to their cell opened and Clayton entered holding a whip.

Anger burned away my disgust. I didn't think, didn't cast a spell but suddenly there was an almost invisible shield between him and the girls. He looked around for the source of the shield and saw me. He snarled backing out of their cell. I snapped their cuffs off and, without even thinking about how to do it, teleported them away. Somehow I knew they were both safe either with the druids or in Camelot. The cuffs on my wrists burned and I knew both of them were bleeding.

The door to my cell flew open and Clayton barged in fuming. His hand was at my throat before I could move. He hissed, his warm rancid breath steaming over my face making the bile rise again.

"You just lost me two perfectly good slaves! I am going to take what they would have earned me out of your hide sorcerer." I spat in his face as best I could.

"My name is Merlin!" I hissed back at him. He sneered.

"Well I think it's time to clip this Merlin's wings." It took him two seconds to get me on the floor kneeling with my back facing him. He unhooked the chain where it connected to my left wrist. His knee pressed into my injured back and he yanked my left arm hard behind me.

I screeched, never knowing a human could make that sound. He had dislocated my shoulder. My left arm now hung limply in his hands. He dropped it and I hissed drawing in a painful breath. He then repeated the painful torture on my right shoulder. Leaving both of my arms hanging useless and shooting pain he walked slowly in front of me. He forced me to look up at him.

"Hurts doesn't it little bird? Don't like that pain do you? Well can't have you dying on me, plus torturing a cripple just isn't as fun." He gripped my right shoulder and I couldn't help but whimper. He smiled his sickening smile as he pulled my shoulder back into place and I howled with pain. He took his time with my left shoulder and was much more forceful then he had to be. I passed out.

When I next awoke I was alone again. My shoulders were sore and stiff. There was a tiny tray sitting next to the door. A miniscule cup of water and a rock hard crust of bread sat upon it. I ate and drank it all in under two minutes. I hadn't eaten anything in three days. Clayton obviously wanted me alive, probably to take the loss of those little girls out on my hide. I was right. A little while later he came and dragged me off to the whipping room. But this time he chained me facing him. He had an array of daggers and there was a fire burning large and hot next to him.

The smile on his face dripped with malice as he picked up a pair of tongs. He reached into the fire and just a second too late I realized what he was doing.

He shoved the white hot dagger against my side. My shirt had fallen off tattered and torn to ribbons only the day before. Though he did not cut me with the dagger its searing presence against my side was enough.

Tears streamed down my face as he removed the dagger placing it back in the flames.

"Everyone has their breaking point little bird. I just have to find yours." He repeated the burring of my left side working his way up. This went on for only two more times before I screamed a name begging for help, for an end to my suffering. Begging to be safe.

"FREYA!"


	5. Confession

**(Authors Note: Don't own BBC's Merlin or the Arthurian legend. Ok so a bit of explanation is required before continuing. Arthur knows only of Freya's existence because Merlin lied to him about her death story to follow probably. Lancelot has met her but only knows her as the Lady of the Lake, he also knows that she and Merlin had a thing. Story to follow if people want)**

Part 5 Confession

This time it was Kay's face that swam into view. He looked concerned and a little confused. Night had fallen and the stars were out.

"Merlin?" Kay asked, he spoke even less than Percival but somehow said more in one word than a full sentence could have managed. I shook my head and sat up. I wobbled but managed to stay upright.

"Sorry if I woke you up Kay." Kay shook his head. The other knights were asleep around the campfire. Kay must have been on watch.

"We saved this for you. For when you woke up." He handed me a bowl of stew. I smiled and thanked him. I hadn't eaten properly in so long that the stew tasted amazing despite the fact that none of the knights were very good at cooking.

Once I was done I looked up at the stars. Kay was silent as usual. Then his deep Irish accent cut the silence like a knife.

"You called out in your sleep." I already knew what I must have called. The same name I had screamed when Clayton tortured me.

"Freya." He nodded at my repetition confirming that it had been her I had begged for. I buried my head in my hands and felt tears stinging my eyes.

"What happened?" Kay asked. I took a deep breath. There was silence for a moment. Then Arthur spoke.

"Kay. Don't."

"Arthur, its fine." I looked up at the sky hearing the other knights, who must have been awake this whole time, sit up.

"She died." My voice caught in my throat.

"I can still remember the day you told me." Arthur said sparing me from continuing for a moment.

"Arthur I'm sorry. I lied to you. I lied about how she died." There was complete silence in the campsite.

"Why?" Arthur sounded confused and slightly hurt. I took a deep breath and continued never once meeting any of their eyes.

"Because you killed her." Dead silence.

"She was cursed. Cursed to wander the night and to kill. She hated herself for it. But I didn't care. I loved her anyway." Tears choked my voice.

"She was the beast. The one that you said killed her and hurt you. The one I killed. Oh god Merlin. I had no idea. I... I would never have. I'm so sorry." I shook my head.

"Don't. I forgave you long ago, and so did she." And I explained most of her current situation as the guardian of the lake of Avalon. Lancelot already knew that bit, had known for seven years.

By the time I had finished my story tears were streaming freely down my face and I was exhausted.

"Get some sleep, you sound awful Merlin." Arthur said. I nodded, knowing that this was his way of not mentioning my tears.

"And Merlin?" I finally met his eyes.

"You are possibly the bravest man I have ever met." Arthur took over the watch from Kay and I lay back down to sleep. Once again the dreams closed in.


	6. A Glimmer of Hope

**(Authors Note: Still don't own Merlin or the Arthurian legend. Ok this part is one of the most violent things I have ever written. I swear I almost cried writing this. This bit picks right back up where Part 4, To Scream Her Name, left off.)**

Part 6 A Glimmer of Hope

"Ah. Found it." His smile was pure evil as he finally removed the knife from my side.

"So you must really care about this Freya, Little Bird." I was close to unconsciousness but rage burned through my pain.

"Don't sully her name by speaking it, you slime!" I was snarling, almost like a wild animal. His eyes widened slightly.

"Oh-ho. This Little Bird's got a soft spot after all." Rage and hatred built inside, dulling the pain. He reached back into the flames with the tongs and brought out a new knife. Unlike the others this one had obviously been in the flames for some time, for it was so hot it almost dripped metal beads.

"Think of what would happen if I got my hands on this Freya. I bet she's pretty." He placed the dagger against my right side and as the white hot metal seared my flesh, rage seared my mind.

I roared, as loud and as powerful as the dragons I could control. My roar was so powerful it blasted Clayton across the room and put out his fire. Several of the older chains on the wall I was chained to had shattered and the opposite wall, the one Clayton had smashed into, had begun to splinter. My wrists were bleeding again, crimson liquid dripping out of the cuffs. Clayton groaned and with effort sat up. His head was cut and bleeding and he was steaming with rage.

"Little Bird," He growled. "You've got some hidden talents, I'll give you that." He limped over to me, his right leg obviously twisted. His fingers found my throat and squeezed.

"Bet you can't do that again if you can't breathe." His fingers tightened and I choked feeling blackness begin to close in on me. Just before I blacked out completely he let go and I gasped for air.

"The price for you just went up Little Bird. I can think of a lot of people who would be interested in a Dragon Lord." He knew. A glimmer of hope seeped into my pain soaked mind. Someone else out there knew I was a Dragon Lord.

Even better he knew I was the last Dragon Lord.

Arthur. If he was out there looking for me and Clayton was now using this skill as my main selling point it would lead Arthur right to me. If somebody else didn't get here first. I pushed that thought away. I had to believe that Arthur would come. If I lost that I lost everything. Exhaustion and pain took me over and I let it consume me, going limp in my chains.

I woke up back in my cell. My sides ached and burned, the very air of my cell attacking my blistered skin.

I waited for Clayton to come and continue my torture, but that day he did not come. The waiting was almost worse than the torture itself. Every noise put me on edge. A scuttling rat somewhere in the depths of the cell mingled with the sudden booming thunder from outside set me so far on edge it almost became hard to breathe. It was freezing in the cell and I shivered pushing down the fear. I slept once more.

Clayton waited two more days before coming again. I had lost track of how long I had been here, the marks I had made to count days washed away by rain coming in through the window. It could have been a year and I would never have known.

His head and leg were both bandaged and he had his old sense of "fun" back.

The whip cut deep, drawing blood with the first strike. He tried once again to beat his rules into me. I was too tired for snark so I replied to the pain with stony silence. That frustrated him.

"You seem to forget, Little Bird, I know your weakness now. I'll get my hands on this Freya and I'll make you watch while I hurt her." My eyes flashed gold and his whip snapped in half.

"You'll never get your hands on her." He forced me to look at him.

"I wouldn't count on that, Little Bird. I'm more resourceful than you'd think." He went back to his whipping, hitting me with the broken handle which was sharp broken wood. I laughed bitterly. He stopped.

"What exactly is funny, Little Bird?"

"Doesn't matter how resourceful you are. You'll never get to her." He forced me to look at him once again.

"Why not?" he punctuated each word with a sharp smack from the broken handle.

"Because she's already dead!" I spat into his face and he slapped me. Obviously frustrated at this loss of leverage he whipped harder. Finally he stopped and dragged me back to my cell. He had expected to break me that day, but he hadn't.

I prayed that Arthur would show up soon. Time passed in a blur of pain. He never let up and I never gave in. Time was non-existent, life becoming a macabre routine.

Finally something changed. I awoke to water being poured over my head. I gasped and sat up. Clayton was smirking at me.

"Congratulations Little Bird. I've got a group of buyers interested in a Dragon Lord." Hope bubbled up, Arthur.

"Bunch of bandits! Seems they want a secret weapon against the Knights of Camelot." My heart plummeted, not Arthur.

"Now I've  
just told them I'm coming to get you. They won't mind a bit of damage to the goods, consider it a parting gift." Before I could scream he dislocated my left shoulder once again. I groaned as he grinned, connecting a longer chain to the one connecting my cuffs.

He yanked me out of the cell and I whimpered at the pain in my shoulder. He laughed. I heard voices at the end of the hall.

"Now you better behave Little Bird." I glared up at him my defiance winning out over my common sense. I did not care if he killed me. If I was sold off Arthur would never find me and I would be trapped in this life forever.

"No." I snarled and his smile turned into rage. He smacked me jarring my arm. I whimpered loudly and the voices down the hall faltered. Clayton dragged me forcefully down the hall, pulling hard to the left. I screamed at the debilitating pain in my shoulder and the voices fall completely silent.

"Shut up sorcerer. They've offered a lot of money for you and I won't have them backing out just because you can't handle a little pain." He wrapped the chain around my neck, forcing my hands up in front of me. He continued to drag me down the hall but I didn't dare make a sound. My magic over rode my panic, lashing out at him. My wrists burned, he paused.

"I would have thought you would have learned not to use your magic by now." Comprehension dawned in his eyes as panic filled mine. "Unless you can't stop. Ah. That's it, isn't it?" He laughed and I felt myself begin to shake harder, fear boiling over.

"Well too bad she didn't get here first. She'd have loved you. Maybe you're even 'her doom' she goes on about." My heart froze. He was talking about Morgana. That meant she not only knew about his operation but she came here often.

My mind was racing; the thought of being sold off to a bunch of bandits didn't seem so bad now.

He dragged me into the room forcing me into a kneeling position. I tried to rise but he tightened the chain around my neck.

"The price for this one is a little higher than we discussed. He's quite powerful, but a bit damaged so I'll give you a small discount." I felt four pairs of eyes upon me and tried to raise my head. The chain tightened and I choked.

"Be polite to your new masters, Little Bird." Clayton sneered.

I scrabbled at my throat as the bigger man, Clayton, wound the chain once more around my neck and pulled tighter constricting my windpipe.

**(Authors Note Addendum: Yes this is where we actually came into the story and if you've paid attention thus far you already know that the four people dressed as bandits are actually Arthur, Gwaine, Lancelot, and Kay.)**


	7. Finally Safe

**(Authors Note: Still don't own Merlin or the Arthurian legend. Hurray! We are almost done! I'd say about three more parts including this one. Now if this one gets lots of reviews honesty please I love hearing both criticisms and praise and will try to take any advice given and maybe a few favorites, I will write more Merlin stuff. I don't quite know what yet though.)**

Part 7 Finally Safe

I gasped for air and sat up. For a moment I couldn't recognize where I was. A hand laid itself on my good shoulder, an old wrinkled hand. Finally I realized where I was and who this man was.

"Gaius." My voice broke as tears formed in my eyes.

"Merlin, my boy." He hugged me tight, careful to avoid hurting my still injured back. I let go of all my fear and pain and sobbed into my surrogate father's shoulder.

"I thought I had lost you." He was crying too. I wiped my tears away and looked him in the eyes, finally asking the question I hadn't dared ask the knights.

"How long was I gone Gaius?"

"It doesn't matter. All that matters is that you're safe."

"Gaius I need to know." A voice spoke, coming from the shadowed doorway.

"Three weeks. You were missing for three weeks." It was Arthur. I started to shake. Three week of torture, of almost endless pain.

"How are you doing?" I couldn't seem to find a voice to answer him with.

"His wounds are healing, but I'm afraid there is little I can do for his wrists." I had expected that, somewhere in the back of my mind. Arthur sounded frustrated.

"Why not?"

"Wounds inflicted by magic from the Old Religion require magic from the Old Religion to heal properly." I answered head resting in my hands. Arthurs next question made me look up at him.

"So can you heal them yourself?" I shook my head studding him. He looked pale and his cheeks were flushed.

"Arthur are you ok?" He sighed.

"You've just been tortured for almost three weeks strait and you're worried about me?" I nodded.

"I may have caught a bit of a chill on the way back to Camelot." He said avoiding looking me in the eye.

"Then you should be lying down." I chided him, he sighed again.

"You never change do you, Merlin?" I smiled my first true smile in three weeks and shook my head. His face brightened slightly to see me smile.

"Fine, but I'll be back to check on you in the morning." I nodded and he left.

"You must rest Merlin." I nodded knowing that I was finally safe. I slept a mercifully dreamless sleep.


	8. The Dragons Cry and The Warlocks Wounds

**(Authors Note: I don't own Merlin or the Arthurian legends. Ok we are on the home stretch. Now in case you haven't read the Authors Notes and randomly decided to start reading them now I must give the slight back story will eventually post the story for this probably I should have put before part 3. Basically without giving too much away, Merlin left Camelot for seven years then came back. This story takes place about a month after his return. All I'll say here in case people want me to actually write that story too.)**

Part 8 The Dragons Cry and the Warlocks Wounds

'_Merlin_.' I opened my eyes reluctantly. I knew that voice, though I hadn't heard it in almost seven years. Sitting up I looked around. It was night time, the moonlight streaming in through the open window. Gaius was asleep in a chair next to my bed and I smiled at him.

'_Merlin.' _His voice was insistent and I sighed. I crept out of bed careful not to wake Gaius and slipped on my boots. I silently slipped out of the citadel, easily avoiding the guards. I made it through the upper town into the lower town. Everyone was asleep at this hour and no one noticed me moving silent as a ghost. All was quiet in the forest around the city but I didn't fear the silence, for I knew whose presence caused it. I made my way into the clearing and smiled up at the fifty foot long dragon.

"Hello Kilgarah." His eyes softened as he looked down at me.

"It has been some time young warlock. Seven years since you left." I felt ashamed of myself for that.

"Seven years since I ran to save my destiny. I guess it took me that long to realize that running wasn't the answer." Kilgarah nodded and smiled. It should have been threatening but it was actually quite comforting.

"I heard your cry, but I could not find you." I knew what he meant. When Clayton had burned me and threatened Freya I had let out a cry in the dragons own language. Not a word, not a summoning, just a sound of pure pain and rage. The emotion behind it must have been too powerful, overwhelming its true source.

"I am glad you survived your ordeal young warlock. Had those manacles remained on you your life would have been in mortal danger."

"I know." Because my magic was mostly controlled through either focused will and incantation or pure instinct my instincts would have eventually burned my wrists down to the bone. I gently touched the skin just below my wrists and Kilgarah tilted his head.

"Show me." I did, removing the bandages which were stained with blood.

"You are brave and strong young warlock. You once showed me clemency, and then helped me regain hope for the future of my kind. These are kindnesses I can never fully repay." He breathed gently on my wrists and I felt magic, soothing and warm. I closed my eyes and felt the spell easily entering my mind.

I opened my eyes as they faded from gold back to blue. My wrists were tingling pleasantly, no longer painful at all. The skin had grown back. I smiled up at Kilgarah.

"Thank you." He smiled down at me once again, spreading his wings.

"Your destiny awaits young warlock." He flew off into the distance, leaving me to sneak back into Camelot. Still running on excess energy from the ancient spell cast upon me I did not return to Gaius' rooms.

Instead I crept into Arthurs chambers, remembering that he hadn't felt well. I snuck in through the servant's quarters that connected to his room. He was asleep but restless, tossing and turning and muttering in his sleep. He was obviously having a nightmare.

"Merlin. Merlin, wake up. . . Wake up you idiot! No. No." I paused, what on earth could he be dreaming about. Panic tinged his voice and I placed my hand on his forehead. His fevered skin burned under my hand. Concern built in my mind. My own pain forgotten I closed my eyes and focused.

"_Fevre ranae lpe _Arthur." Eyes glinting gold I watched as he sighed in relief, his fever dispelled.

"Merlin." He whispered still asleep, the panic had gone from his voice now relief taking its place. I smiled. Using my magic had drained me. Too tired to stand anymore I summoned Arthur's large cushioned chair to me and sat down. Legs curled under me I yawned and before I could do anything else was asleep.


	9. The Lady's Laugh

**(Authors Note: I do not own Merlin or the Arthurian legends. Final part peoples! Ok so I hope you enjoyed my first story ever posted on . I am quite proud of it myself and I suppose that as long as we can be happy with what we do we have done something worth doing.)**

Part 9 The Lady's Laugh

I was in a lake, but I was breathing. I smiled.

"Freya?" I called out through the darkness. Someone hugged me from behind. I turned and swept her off her feet into my arms, spinning us both in a circle. Her laugh sounded like waves on shore just like it always had, sweet and gentle.

"Merlin! I'm so glad you're safe." She wrapped her arms around my neck.

"I miss you, so much Freya."

"I miss you too. We won't see each other for a while after this." I frowned.

"Don't Freya. Don't tell me that. I miss you. I don't want to leave." We had had an argument similar to this one seven years earlier.

"I know. But I am always there with you even if you can't see me. I'm always right here." She poked me gently right above my heart. Warmth spread from where her finger had made contact making me feel content and comfortable.

"And I will always be with you." She smiled and kissed me. The dream faded.

I woke up to find two people standing over me.

"Am I ever going to wake up without someone hovering over me after this little adventure?" Arthur laughed and Gaius sighed.

"Not if you keep scaring me half to death." Gaius chided as I sat up and stretched. He grabbed my hands and examined my wrists, which were completely healed not even a scar to remind me of those past three weeks.

"What's wrong?" I grinned.

"You are completely impossible Merlin. Even with magic these should have taken time to heal." Arthur, apparently curious, peeked over Gaius' shoulder and stared at my unmarked wrists. He smiled and pretended to sigh exasperatedly.

"Well you know Merlin, Gaius, he's a wonder. A wonderful idiot that is."

"Prat." I smiled back enjoying our playful banter. I left to go about my daily routines, smiling secretly to myself.


End file.
